Getting Home

If I labeled my posts and did a word cloud, I bet "illness" would be in big letters. Which is part of why I am not doing that. Anyway, now I have had five days of the flu. And I had a flu shot! (Husband tried to accuse me of not.) Whenever I got on a conference call with other work colleagues, they wanted me to hang up. I tried not to take it personally.

I think I got it on a plane. Planes are virus factories. Yet I have these colleagues who fly all over the world all the time and never seem to get sick. I am wimp; that's it. What else can I say?

Anyway, while I was shivering in the Washington snow/rain, D and X took off for Corpus Christi, along with the rest of the spring break crowd. Misty went with them in her own little pink and green guinea pig carrier. And a leash (which she hated). So Misty was hanging out on the 8th floor of the Omni, while I was shivering in my mom's basement. (exaggeration: she has heat.) X loved the beach; she said the sand was the softest she had ever experienced. She found an acceptable bathing suit in the hotel gift shop. (After she and I had searched through every single online option.) D just likes going anywhere.

All this is good, because I felt a lot of guilt just heading north for Seattle without bringing X along. X was happy with the trip; she leapt into my arms to tell me about it. Misty was happy to get home; she leapt into her real cage. I was happy to get home; I leapt into my king-size temperpedic-mattress bed. Ahhhhh.